Page 93 of A Winding Wave of Magic
“Q’eqchi’,” Reina answered for him. “Pronounced badly, but yeah.” She shook her head. “I haven’t heard that since I was a kid. Where did you learn it?”
Jonathan shrugged. “I’ve traveled a bit.”
“I guess so.” Reina turned to me for answers.
Unfortunately, I had none. Jonathan’s ability to speak an indigenous language of Guatemala was news to me too, though I guessed it had something to do with the spellcasting traditions he had told me about in Manzanita.
“You looked quite the picture up there,” Jonathan said. “Like a proper magician. Come, let’s see the whole thing.” He spun a finger through the air.
“On my way to Hogwarts now.” I twirled around once more, allowing the robes to flap around me. “Actually, I can’t wait to get out of this thing. Can you join us for a celebratory bite? We’re going to the Public Garden for a picnic.”
Jonathan, however, just shook his head. “We have things to discuss. It’s time.”
His meaning was clear: that discussion needed to happen now.
I turned to Reina, and she waved her hand.
“I’ll entertain myself in the park,” she said.
I nodded. “Meet you there?”
She squeezed my shoulder, letting me know she would be watching.Careful with him.He’s a good one, but there’s something dark there too.
Silently, I let her know it would be all right and that I’d fill her in later. Jonathan wasn’t here for nothing. As he said, it was time.
“Jonathan,” she said, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you again. I hope the rest of your trip is pleasant. For everyone.”
A quick frown flashed across Jonathan’s normally placid features, but he smiled back and muttered a bland farewell for himself. I watched my friend disappear into the sea of red and black, then turned back to Jonathan, who was fiddling with his hat.
“You look like a gangster with that thing,” I told him.
He started. “I beg your pardon?”
I just chuckled. “Come on, Daddy-O. Let me get out of these things, and then you can tell me why you’re really here.”
“You’re a shameless flirt at heart,”I said thirty minutes later. “I had no idea. But you charmed your way to the front of the gown return line as well as any siren.”
Jonathan and I were taking the long way back to my apartment, walking around the Chestnut Hill Reservoir wherehe had first fished me out of the water. I stepped lively and carefree, still buoyed by the high of graduation. Jonathan was a bit more sedate, careful to walk on smooth spots of the concrete path. No cracks, I realized with a smile.
“I’ve always liked Boston,” he said, ignoring my comment.
“Don’t change the subject, you cad.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “I was doing you a favor. You didn’t want to wait in that throng any more than I did.”
“I don’t know if I could have strutted like a pigeon to get out of it, though,” I replied.
A few of said pigeons marched ahead of us toward the water. Two of the males puffed up their feathers to nearly twice their size and proceeded to chase a smooth-feathered female. Before reaching the water, she turned and pecked at one of them until he flew a few yards away.
“See?” I said.
“We’re all more animal than we think anyway.”
“You would know, puss.”
For that, I received a dark green look. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“It is genuinely nice here, though,” Jonathan said. “I don’t walk enough during the day as it is.”
